Who Does Shaun's Hair, Anyway?

There is no "aha" moment for a woman that lets her know she needs a trip to the hairdresser like turning on the Today show and realizing she resembles the Flying Tomato.

Sadly, HIS hair looks even BETTER than mine...

Random Tuesday Thoughts: It's Free...Must Be Really Good!

Gol, it's been a long time since I let the hamster spin the wheel on Random Tuesday. It must be because my thoughts have been so well organized and logical lately.

Actually, no. If you could have opened my head and looked deep into my brain over the last few months it would have looked like one of those "FREE" boxes at a yard sale where people throw used McDonald's toys, single earrings and the lids from Rubbermaid containers they've lost the containers to. Winter is hard for me. But I'm finally seeing some sun in the days, and the cobwebs are clearing away, and there might actually be some profound funny sh*t hiding at the bottom of the box. Let's dig....

We were sitting in the living room last week watching the kids play Raving Rabbids on the Wii when there was a weird splattering sort of crash. A search through the house turned up nothing on the floor that might have fallen, then I looked up at the dining room window. Holy Crap, I said, the window's broken! It appeared to have been shot at, or perhaps hit by a low-flying bat. But it was a double-pane broken from the inside. S.P. searched Google and found a phenomenon known as "Spontaneous Glass Breakage", where the glass goes kapow for no visible reason. It was freaky.

I have come to the conclusion that in the parenting contract there should be a provision for using a cattle prod to make your child move faster when all other methods (asking, begging, pleading, cajoling, threatening, yelling till the veins stick out in your eyeballs) have not worked. And it should be a free pass kind of thing. No call to CPS, no visit from the police. Telling the child "We're going to be LATE!" does not work. My mom told me I should refuse to take said child to the event late anymore, but say "if you can't be there on time you can't go." This is the woman who used to think the grandchildren walked on water. Nice to see she's on MY side for a change. Nyah, nyah, kids...Gramma likes me best again...

I have been spending some time on Facebook, which is kind of nice as I can keep in touch with classmates from high school who I am kind of interested in, but not so much that I actually want to spend money calling them on the phone or letting them know exactly where my house is. Plus it's kind of a cool place for me and all my mommy-friends to post notes about how cool we think each others' kids are, and make plans for sleepovers and stuff. But I have to be careful what I say on Facebook, because there are times I've almost posted something terribly witty and then thought "well, could the be-friending network possibly let this get back to the person I am saying it about??" It's not like here in the blogosphere, where I have a secret alter ego and no one knows me except for Green Jello....

For example:
Friend: I'm engaged and there's so much to do! Where do I start?
Me: Stick some duct tape on your future mother-in-law's mouth!
Now, Friend would laugh and so would most everyone who read it. But somehow, somewhere, Six Degrees of Separation away, my mother in law would find out and bitch-slap me over the phone.

Facebook also has some cool fun applications to while away your spare time. I accepted an invitation to become someone's neighbor in Farmville. Now, I think Farmville is harmless fun. Some folks like to spend cold hard currency in Farmville, which I would not do as a day of guest teaching really makes a gal value a buck. But, different strokes. I can go to Farmville and have ten horses that don't poop. What a deal. But the new group that has been popping up lately, that many of my friends have been becoming fans of, is "I Don't Care About Your Farm, Your Fish, Your Park, or Your Mafia!" Apparently they don't get excited when I have Mystery Eggs to give away, or that I adopted a lost baby sheep. What many of them don't know is that I secretly go to their photo albums and draw mustaches on all their family photos when they aren't looking...

As many small towns do, our town has an annual celebration to honor the founding of something-or-other. Here it's Loyalty Day. There's a banquet, Blessing of the Fleet, a kiddie parade, and a big parade complete with Coast Guard flyover and the Shriner's Clowns. We also elect a Loyalty Day court and Jr. Miss Loyalty court. At the school last week the Jr. Miss reps came to speak to the 5th grade girls about competing. Pony Girl is curious about it as several of her friends at the barn have competed over the last two years. At dinner last night she asked if she could try out next year, and what she would have to do. Well, we told her, there would be a community service project, an essay to write, and a banquet where she would have to meet community leaders and demonstrate her social skills. "How?", she asked. Oh, you make gracious conversation about the things you've learned in your community service, and you introduce yourself to lots of different people. "Well, what would I tell them about myself?" Your name, things you like to do, your family, we said. This was her practice speech.
"Hi, I'm Pony Girl. I like to read books, work with my horse Casper and fart on the couch with my dad."
Gracious social conversation, check....bring on that crown.

Well, just like at the yard sale, sometimes you find a jewel among crap. Hopefully there was something here to add twinkle to your day!

Why I Love Winter Windstorms...by Mrs. C.

I found a heart-shaped horse apple on my poop fork today.

It fell off into the poop lagoon before I could lay it aside to photograph for Wordless Wednesday.

Well, it was the wind that BLEW it off the poop fork. And it sank and melted.

And then the wind blew the pasture gate open and the horse got out.

I pulled my glove off with my teeth so I could catch him easier before stopping to think about all my glove had just been touching.

Having no rope, I took off my freshly washed coat to loop round his neck and lead him back to the pasture.

Then I noticed he'd been rolling in poop.

If that groundhog sees his shadow again next year I am going to Gobbler's Knob to make a Groundhog Pot Pie...